


Strangeness and Familiarity

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 10:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Arriving on the Yorkshire moors, the Doctor, Steven and Vicki become involved in the lives of the Bronte family.





	Strangeness and Familiarity

Emily Bronte gazed outside of the window to her bedroom and looked across at the vacant moors that stretched long into the distance so that she could see no end to their winding path. The moors were empty in reality, but for a few moments as she looked upon them, they were filled with people gathered around living their day to day lives in Gondal, the world she and her sister Anne had created together. She watched the sight for a few moments and imagined there was a battle on the grass before her, two sides fighting for ownership of the rich land which they sought after with the desire of blood-thirsty rulers. Emily raised the pistol her father had instructed her to reload and held it up to the window and pointed it to the moor. 

And then all the citizens were gone, the images of battles and crowds of people had filtered away and Emily no longer resided over them, watching them in the magnificent world she’d created. There was nothing but the quiet sounds of small birds trying to be heard through the hazel oak trees. Emily sighed and pulled the pistol away from the window gently, laying it safely back into its box. She then peered outside the window one more time, hoping that if she looked hard enough an adventure might just happen for real with the appearance of strangers from a faraway land.

…

Vicki clutched onto the scissors tightly as she neatly trimmed Steven’s hair, snipping away the last few strands that had become long down the back of his neck. It’d become somewhat a tradition in the months they’d known each other to find the teenager tiding up his unruly locks before they settled in a new place. 

With a pat on his shoulder, Steven knew the haircut was finished and he touched his hair lightly, smiling with satisfaction. “Thank you, Vicki. Maybe next time I can give you a trim.”

She laughed, tilting her head to one side cheekily. “I’m not letting you anywhere near these scissors!”

They both were interrupted by a loud cough echoing from the console and turned around to find the Doctor trying to gain their attention through rather unconventional methods of coughing and spluttering.

Steven placed his hands on his hips. “Doctor, if you wanted to talk, why didn’t you, I don’t know…open your mouth and let words come out?”

The Doctor looked irritably up at his companion as he approached him, and didn’t seem to be deterred by the fact that Steven Taylor towered over him quite considerably. “You know, there'll be a day my boy when that sense of humour of yours gets you into a lot of trouble. On some occasions I’d admire it but on others I could quite honestly do without it hmm?”

Steven glanced at Vicki who was grinning that her friend had been told off like he was at school in the ancient times of earth. “Well, hostility aside, what is it you’re trying to tell us Doctor?” he said.

“I merely wished to express that we had materialised.”

“And that’s news?” Steven asked. 

Vicki shook her head at him and wondered why he always seemed to do his best to annoy the Doctor, granted the Doctor gave as good as he got but Steven sometimes didn’t know when to reel it in.

“We’ve landed somewhere that may interest you, dear boy. Take a look at the scanner.”

Steven and Vicki squinted up at the scanner screen and took in the sight. The image on the small scanner was of a long stretch of desolate moors, empty, grey and devoid of any signs of life or any indication of time period. It seemed to be around late afternoon and with a strong enough wind blowing through. The moors seemed to be never-ending and inviting, and Steven’s lips curved into a small smile at the sight.

“It looks like the moors in Yorkshire,” he said. 

“I agree, dear boy.”

“I spent a few holidays near there as a boy. I loved the peace and quiet. Once I got out into space I often wondered what it’d be like to go back.”

Vicki shrugged her shoulders. “Pretty boring if you ask me.”

The Doctor smirked slightly, ignoring her dismissal. “Well now is your chance, dear boy. I myself would like to take in the scenery, if of course it’s not too much trouble for you to do as I ask.”

Steven smiled. “No, Doctor, it’s not a bother.”

Vicki was out of the doors quicker than her older travelling companions and looked up at the dimming sky that greeted them as soon as they had closed the blue doors to their craft which now looked very peculiar perched in the way it was on the middle of the moors. 

Steven looked at his companion and noticed she was shivering under her cloak that the Doctor had advised them to wear. He felt a little chilly himself but the cold temperature didn’t bother him as much as it did Vicki. He was also less upset about the location- he’d always been fonder of the winter months than the summer ones, even the odd bit of rain didn’t worry him too much. 

He approached Vicki from behind and placed his arms around her middle, holding her tightly. “Are you too cold?”

“It’s freezing!” she declared, taking comfort in the extra warmth that Steven had provided with the hug. “And my hands are going to fall off.”

“Come here,” he said, spinning her around to face him and grabbing her hands. He began to rub them with his own warm fingers until her circulation improved. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

“Come along, come along, stop diddling,” the Doctor said hurriedly as he began walking across the length of the moor with great stride.

Vicki, who was usually the most upbeat of the group, frowned. “It looks like it goes on for miles. I bet we’re in a time when we can’t phone for a taxi!”

…

After many footsteps across the uneven terrain with the battering wind as their enemy, Steven stopped still to check his bearings and watched as his breath escaped his lips and lingered in the early evening air like a mysterious phantom. Vicki, who was trailing behind him and not looking where she was going, managed to crash right into his back. Steven nudged her out of the way aggressively.

“Well if you will stop still like you’re in some sort of traffic jam!” she said, scolding him.

“Sssh. I’m trying to take a moment to think.”

“You can’t walk and think at the same time?”

“Look, we’ve already been walking for a good mile or so and we’re still as hopelessly lost as when we first stepped out of the TARDIS. This just goes on and on for ages.” He looked back to the way they’d come. “I can’t even see the ship from here.”

Vicki looked around at the vastness of the empty moors to see if she could see anyone or spot any building or sign of life. They had been walking for quite a while when the Doctor finally had to rest, his breathing becoming heavy, and he perched himself on a small rock to steady himself. Steven sat down beside him and glanced around again at the landscape. It had its own beauty in a way, a place that seemed lonely and foreboding but also strangely familiar and comforting to him, a place that you could get lost in your own imagination and create stories. He just wished he knew where the nearest town was.

“What’s that moaning sound?” Vicki said as a low howling noise resonated all around them. It was deep, almost in the earth and so very haunting that it sent a chill down her spine.

“Well it’s not my stomach,” Steven replied and he looked over his shoulder with apprehension. “And I can’t see anything.”

The Doctor puffed breathlessly. “Sheer imagination, there’s nothing here, child. Besides, if you two keep stopping every few seconds we shall never see civilisation shall we?”

Vicki smiled and cuddled the Doctor tightly. His features softened a little as soon as she had made contact. Steven hadn’t been travelling with the Doctor and Vicki for a long period of time but he could already tell that the old man and Vicki had formed quite the familial unit.

“I was thinking of your health,” Vicki told the Doctor. “It’s a long distance.”

“Nonsense child, I’m as fit as I ever was.” He grabbed his lapels and attempted to perch his leg upon one of the boulders that lay on the grass, but as he did so he misjudged the distance, and before Steven and Vicki had the chance to react, the old man began tumbling to the ground. His companions heard a cry of pain and rushed over to him immediately, helping him back into a seating position on the boulder.

“Oh Doctor are you alright?” Vicki asked as she checked him over and looked into his eyes. 

The Doctor rubbed his sore leg. “I’m quite alright, child. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

But as his companions tried to help him stand again, his leg buckled under his weight and he almost fell for the second time. 

“I could try to carry you to the nearest road, or should we go back to the TARDIS?” Steven asked.

“No, no, my boy, it’s far too inconvenient to go back now, and I would still like to see when we’ve landed. Perhaps if we’ve landed in a time with vehicles, a taxi or a bus…”

He trailed off from his point when he noticed Vicki looking into the distance. 

“I don’t think so, Doctor,” she said as she gazed at what she saw, which was a young woman in a long dress and hat, writing in what appeared to be a notebook. “She hardly looks like she’s from a modern time. Look at those clothes. I should think horse and carts would be more appropriate.”

The Doctor leaned against Steven and narrowed his eyes at the woman. “Yes, yes, Victorian garments perhaps, though it’s hard to tell from this far away?”

“Maybe we should go and say hi,” Vicki said. “She could point us in the direction of a hotel or something.”

Steven nodded with agreement and together they carefully lifted the Doctor into a standing position and placed his arms around their shoulders so that he had support on both sides, though the height difference between the companions meant that Steven had to bend over quite considerably. “We’ll take one step at a time,” he said.

“Well I would hardly expect four steps,” the Doctor muttered. Steven ignored the Doctor’s tetchiness, having the feeling that their prior argument in the TARDIS and his injury had resulted in a higher level of irritability from the aged Time Lord. 

It took ten minutes or so to reach the woman who by now was approaching them with interest. She had an obedient dog by her side that was looking at Vicki in the same way it looked at its owner as if ready for cuddles.

“Is there something the matter?” the woman said pleasantly. Her voice was soft spoken and gentle. “Is the old man alright?”

“Probably just a sprain, he’ll live,” Steven told her. “But do you by chance know of anywhere we could take him to rest. Our…home…is back across the moors and its getting dark.”

The woman nodded and her face was full of sympathy. “Of course, you must come to my house. It’s not too far, the parsonage just along this way, and I’m sure my father would want your grandfather to rest.”

“Well that’s very kind of you,” Vicki said as she finally gave in and bent down to stroke the dog, leaving the Doctor in sole support of Steven. The dog was friendly and Vicki took the first opportunity to envelope it in a big hug. “He’s lovely.”

The woman smiled at the way her dog took to the young girl. “He is. And as for helping, I would hope anyone would do the same for my family if we were in the same position.”

Steven smirked. “Well, if that’s settled, come along…Grandfather, time to get some rest…Gramps.”

The Doctor resisted the urge to reply to the assumption that he was Steven’s grandfather as he was starting to tire and felt in a great deal of pain. Normally he’d have been straight in the conversation, correcting the lady, but this time he could barely muster up an ounce of energy.

Vicki held out her hand to the woman to introduce herself. “I’m Vicki, by the way,” she said looking at the woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She had darkish hair tied up into a bun and she wore dark clothing.

“I’m Emily, Emily Bronte.”

Steven, Vicki, and the Doctor exchanged glances of surprise.

…

The walk to the Bronte household was a rather long one with Steven and Vicki moving the Doctor along across the moors as if he were a rag doll being dragged across the nursery by a child. They hadn’t meant to be as rough with him as they had, but the journey had been time-consuming and Vicki’s frame had buckled under the pressure of the old man’s weight. By the time they reached the path leading to Emily’s house, the Doctor could feel his feet were blistered and his back was throbbing with pain. 

Steven paused a moment to take a breather and looked around at the small graveyard that adorned the property rather atmospherically, giving the house an eerie quality. He nudged Vicki playfully and whispered into her ear. “And we thought the moors were creepy. How would you like this right next to you all the time?”

“I bet there are ghosts all around us!” she said to him quietly, shivering under her cloak at the thought of wandering spectres.

“Oh don’t tell me you believe all that rubbish?”

“Well of course I do.”

Before Steven had the opportunity to chastise her for being so gullible, he could hear a man approaching them from the door to the house. The man was modestly built and grey-haired with large sideburns at the side of his face and a pair of spectacles resting on his nose. He stumbled on the path, nearly fumbling over his own feet until Emily raced forward to grab him. 

“Papa, be careful!” she screamed as she held onto him. “You don’t want to be injured like the Doctor here because then we’d have more of you to look after.”

The man composed himself and smiled at his new guests, motioning for them to join him inside. “Welcome to our home.”

…

Inside the house, the travellers were greeted with compassion from not only the father, but two other young women who had joined them in the living room as soon as they’d arrived. The Doctor was quickly settled beside the fire, his leg tended to and some soup made. Vicki and Steven couldn’t believe how hospitable and caring the family seemed to be.

“You must stay with us for a couple of days or so,” the father said as he steadied himself against the mantelpiece. It was clear he was just as frail as the Doctor was. “These are my daughters. You’ve met Emily of course but my eldest here is Charlotte and my youngest is Anne.”

The Doctor smiled knowingly, and Vicki and Steven tried to contain the excitement that they had yet again met famous people by complete accident. Steven wasn’t all too familiar with the novels of the Bronte sisters and really only knew their names in passing discussions, but Vicki had had a lesson or two from Ian and Barbara during one of their lazy days on the TARDIS. There had been an argument over which book was better- ‘Wuthering Heights’ or ‘Jane Eyre’. Barbara had preferred the latter, loving the relationship between Jane and Rochester and the journey of Jane’s character. Ian argued his case for ‘Wuthering Heights’, admitting he got most of his knowledge from the film version where he had quite enjoyed the passionate relationship of Heathcliff and Cathy. Vicki herself had recently finished ‘The Tenant of Wildfell Hall’ and found it the most daring of the three and also the most intriguing. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you,” Vicki said, performing a small curtsy, though she had no idea if it was common practice. “I’m Vicki and this is Steven Taylor.”

The Bronte father smiled. “Are you brother and sister or betrothed to one another?”

Vicki was confused by the notion that there were only two options to why a man and a woman would be in each others company. She exchanged glances with Steven and at the same time they replied. “Brother and sister.”

“What were you doing on the moors so late if you don’t mind my asking?” said Mr. Bronte.

“We were just taking a stroll,” Steven said quickly. 

“Well if you’re anything like my daughters you’ll be writing stories and forgetting its time for dinner.”

“Oh Papa,” Emily said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. 

“We don’t want to take up much of your family’s time,” the Doctor said as he slurped down the warm soup. “I’m sure you’re all very busy.”

“We have time to look after some strangers in need,” Anne said. “Besides it might be fun to have some new guests.”

…

A while later Steven waited in the modest living room with the Doctor and Mr. Bronte, waiting for the ladies to join them after they’d gone off to get changed into more suitable attire. Steven admired himself in the mirror that hung over the mantelpiece, glancing curiously at his own reflection. He had been given some of the clothes belonging to the Bronte son, Branwell, but found the clothes very impractical and outlandish. He adjusted the tight collar around his neck; pulling at it to loosen the tightness of the grip- he’d always hated tight collars that were so restrictive. The outfit he’d been given consisted of a long tailed jacket, a shirt, waistcoat and very tight trousers that made him feel very uncomfortable. He looked presentable of course, but comfort did not seem to be high on the agenda in the 1840’s. 

Finally, hearing a noise from the hallway, Steven exited the room to find Vicki coming down the stairs with the three sisters following her.

“Look at you,” Steven said with intrigue, looking his friend up and down as she twirled on the spot. She had her hair piled up onto her head with a ringlet curl ponytail falling loosely onto her shoulders. She also wore a long pale blue dress that almost reached the floor. 

The sisters looked at Vicki proudly. It was clear to Steven that the young women had already taken teenage Vicki under their wing. They smiled admiringly at her and then at Steven, and then entered the living room together in deep conversation. Steven and Vicki lingered in the hallway for a moment.

“You took your time up there,” he said. 

“So would you have if you’d had to be put in a corset,” she replied as she rubbed her already aching ribs. “I can barely move or breathe.”

Steven laughed. “Sorry, yes it does look a bit like some form of torture, though I have to say my whole ‘get up’ is not too comfortable either.”

“I think it’s very dashing though.”

“Are you two coming in here anytime this evening?” the Doctor called from the living room.

Steven’s eyes rolled upwards. The Doctor had been nothing but tetchy since he’d injured himself on the moors and as usual they were being blamed for it.

“Daughters, come clear away all your work,” Mr. Bronte said softly as Steven and Vicki entered the room at the Doctor’s command. 

“Of course, Papa.” Charlotte and her sisters were immediately at the table, tidying away their hoards of parchment, quills, and ink. 

“What are you working on?” Steven asked Charlotte as she carried some books away to put onto the shelf. He followed her as he spoke, but she seemed un-eager to tell him about her stories when she’d only just met him.

“Mind your own business, my boy,” the Doctor said. “Miss Charlotte does not need a snooping young man prying in her private matters.”

“I didn’t mean to offend anyone,” Steven protested and then glared at the Doctor. He thought it was a bit rich coming from a man who interfered with people’s lives all the time. 

“It’s fine.” Charlotte was not keen to put herself in the middle of an argument between the men. “He was only curious, I’m sure.”

Before Steven had the chance to respond there was a distant banging sound coming from the upstairs hall, and then they could hear distant murmuring sounds, desperate cries, almost like the long dead calling out to them. 

“What’s that?” Vicki stammered. 

“It’s nothing,” Charlotte said quickly. “Just an old house settling.”

But as she said the words there was yet another loud bang and then the sound of a door handle turning several times as though someone was trying to get out. 

“That’s nothing?” Steven asked, not quite believing that they could dismiss the noise so easily. “Should I go and check for a break in?”

But Charlotte stood in front of him with her arms folded to stop him leaving. Her tiny height meant she barely reached his chest and he towered over her, having to lower his neck to look at her properly. Despite her delicate body, Charlotte seemed to command the space quite easily and Steven suddenly felt rather intimidated by her presence.

“It is nothing, just the house settling,” she replied firmly, her eyes locked on his.

Mr. Bronte coughed nervously. “Charlotte is quite right. Now why don’t we take some tea?”

Mr. Bronte sent the ladies out of the room to fetch the drinks and food whilst he resumed his discussion with the Doctor about the booming industry in the nearby town. Steven, who was unsure where he was welcome, hovered outside the kitchen where the girls were gossiping. 

“That sound we heard,” Vicki said. “We also heard a sound like that when we were on the moors. It’s pretty creepy but you seem so used to it.”

The sisters exchanged glances and Anne leaned in close to her new young friend. “Emily believes the moors are haunted and that they are the plains between life and death- the end of earth and the beginning of heaven.”

“And is that what you think too?” Vicki asked Anne.

“I’m not sure of all that but the moors are certainly an intriguing place. It fires up the imagination and wills you to write it all down until your fingers bleed.”

“I used to go to the moors as a child,” Steven said butting in from the doorway. “The solitude was comforting when you’re used to lots of noise and chaos like I was, though being all alone isn’t much better either.”

“I quite agree,” Emily said. “Did the two of you play together as children? There’s nothing quite like the relationship between siblings.”

Steven and Vicki looked at one another awkwardly.

“Uh yes,” Steven said, lying but trying his best to sound truthful. “We had our moments.”

He found the pretence of being Vicki’s brother unusual. Yes he did think of her as sisterly and someone he took care of and took great joy in teasing, but to actually be considered related was another matter. Steven already had a real little sister of his own, one he’d not seen for many years, one who was growing into a young woman without him there to witness it. He missed her but he rarely spoke of it, too caught up in the adventures to dwell on his past.

Charlotte placed the cups onto the tray and eyed Steven suspiciously. “Papa’s tea is ready.”

“Let me help you with that.” Steven lifted the tray from the table but Charlotte didn’t say a word of thanks and merely watched as he carried the tray past her. As he moved past Vicki, he whispered. “Was it something I said?”

Vicki shrugged but had to ignore it when Emily and Anne linked arms with her on either side. 

“Well at least someone’s fitting in well,” he muttered to himself.

Steven could see how well Vicki made friends and how easily people took to her. Emily and Anne were far older than Vicki and more of his own age but they seemed to have seen Vicki as a younger sister and someone they could teach and guide in the world. He laughed at the sight of the three petite sisters and similarly petite Vicki and how much bigger he was than them. 

…

During the night-time, Steven, Vicki and the Doctor shared a room on the first storey of the house that had been set up for them during their short stay in Haworth. The Doctor took the main bed whilst Steven and Vicki had been forced to sleep on blankets on the floor. The house was already full with the Bronte family and so they could not complain, though Steven did wonder what was behind one of the doors on the upstairs hall, a door that always seemed to be closed.

Vicki couldn’t sleep when the noises started again and within moments Steven was awake too, looking at her and wondering if she’d heard them too. Of course the Doctor was dead to the world as usual.

“What is that?” Steven said, irritated that he couldn’t have an answer.

“Sounds like a poltergeist. We had one once on our spaceship.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, a poltergeist in space?”

Vicki folded her arms. “Well it wasn’t a gravity malfunction that caused those things to float like they did.”

Steven spluttered with laughter but stopped when they heard a continuing tapping coming from the room directly above them. Steven paused for a moment and then suddenly leapt out of his covers, scaring Vicki who wasn’t expecting it.

“Well I’m going to see what it is,” he said.

Vicki grabbed his arm. “If they catch you snooping they’ll throw us out, is that what you want?”

Steven relented and threw himself back onto the blanket on the floor. “Fine. But if something goes wrong, it’s on your head!”

…

Steven had increasingly felt like a spare part since arriving at Haworth and although the family had been kind and helped looked after the Doctor, he found himself unsure of what to do the next morning after they had taken breakfast together. The Doctor had become quite friendly with Mr. Bronte, the two talking for what felt like hours about everything from Mr. Bronte’s role as curate, to the Doctor’s credentials, to their old age ailments. The Doctor’s bad leg and sore back of course was no match for the terribly bad eyesight that the Bronte father was struggling to cope with, not that he’d admit it to his daughters. 

Vicki had taken more than a shine to the Bronte sisters and the feeling was definitely mutual. Emily and Anne in particular seemed to think Vicki was their charge- perhaps Anne still considered herself a governess of sorts, Steven thought, as he made his way into the Bronte study to have a snoop about. 

Vicki had taken the first opportunity to get out of the house and had opted for a walk with Emily and Anne across the moors with Emily’s dog in the fine early spring weather. Steven had decided to leave them to it and stood alone in the study for what felt like ages as he stared at the many books on the shelves. He hadn’t noticed Charlotte standing directly beside him when he threw his arm out ready to pick up one of the dusty first editions. She yelped as his arm made contact with her cheek and the glasses she wore flew off her face and landed on the floor by her feet.

“Oh god!” he said, realising what he’d done. “Charlotte, I’m so sorry.”

She steadied herself against the bureau and rubbed her cheek. “It’s alright.”

“I’m honestly very clumsy sometimes.” He scrambled to the floor and picked up her glasses, holding them in his hands, inspecting them closely for damage. “They survived.”

“Well I should hope so.”

Steven looked down at her and noticed for the first time how warm and pleasant her eyes were. He took a moment to discreetly look at her face, the face now without the glasses he had become accustomed to seeing her in. A moment passed and he still held onto the glasses, making smeary finger marks on the lenses as he clutched them.

“Am I allowed my glasses back or are you holding them hostage?”

Steven laughed nervously. “I’m sorry,” he said, handing them back to her. “And I’m sorry again for the knocking into you like that.”

“It’s quite alright,” she said and Steven was surprised by how little she seemed annoyed compared to the previous day. “I do have another cheek so no harm done.”

She quickly began to clean the glasses with a cloth from the bureau and was very meticulous about making sure they were as clean as could be.

“You have a lot of books,” he said, finally able to break the awkward tense silence that had built up in the room after the incident. 

“Indeed, my sisters and I are keen readers.”

“And keen writers by the looks of it.”

“Yes, we write mostly after supper.”

Steven rubbed his chin. “Of course I have no skills in that area myself. I’m not very good with words.”

“No, I noticed that. And what is it exactly you do excel at, Mr. Taylor?”

“Well…I like machines I suppose, transport that sort of thing.”

“Then you must love the mills and all that modern machinery?”

Steven wasn’t exactly sure which mills she meant or what kind of machinery she referred to but he couldn’t reveal he had no clue on such matters. “Yes I suppose so. I like to know how things work.” He kept his answers short just to be on the safe side.

“And I like to write about how people and the world work, so we do have one thing in common.”

…

On the moors, Emily and Anne led Vicki to a beautiful waterfall that they loved to visit. It was a great source of inspiration to them and though they’d seen it many times before, it never failed to make them content, connecting them to their surroundings.

Vicki had never known the feeling of belonging to a particular place and feeling connected to one such spot. She’d lived on Earth as a small child, moving around to various locations until finally setting out into space with her father on one continuous journey. The only real length of time she’d spent in one place was Dido and it had been her loneliest time. She’d never had any siblings of her own and despite not wanting to trade for the hardships of the Brontes, in some ways she envied them. 

“Vicki, what do you think of the view?” Emily asked.

“It’s marvellous, very pretty!” 

“We shall do some sketches later,” Anne said. “I’d love to draw you, Vicki, you have a fine face.”

Vicki smiled at the honour. “That would be nice.”

“Do you draw and paint?” Emily said.

“Oh no, I don’t have those talents.” Vicki thought back to her school days. Most of what she’d learnt had been on machines. The artistically gifted in her time tended to study elsewhere but she had focused on science, maths and technology at the request of her father. Besides, in her time art had evolved to a multitude of forms. She wasn’t sure she even knew how to paint a picture.

Vicki took a moment and then cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask something and I didn’t want to bother Charlotte. Last night there was a noise again, didn’t you hear it?”

Emily and Anne exchanged glances and Vicki was beginning to wonder if the sisters had their own form of telepathic communication.

“You needn’t worry,” Anne said. “You’re safe with us.”

Vicki found that a strange thing to say. Why had they accepted the noises and refused to explain them?

Emily was keen to change the subject. “I wonder how Mr. Taylor is getting on back at the parsonage. I sense he was feeling quite left out.”

“If he’s anything like our brother-” Anne said but was cut off short by her older sister.

“I hope Charlotte will keep good company for your brother,” Emily said to Vicki. 

Vicki had noticed that the subject had changed rapidly when the Bronte son was mentioned. She didn’t really remember anything about him but Mr. Bronte had mentioned he was away working in the city. Whatever it was it was a delicate subject and although she was curious, she didn’t want to upset her hosts by prying too deeply.

“Steven is a good man,” Vicki said. “But Charlotte seems wary of him.”

“She is not as fierce as she appears,” said Anne. “She’s the one who keeps us all together.”

“I think she and Steven are more than evenly matched,” Vicki said, grinning.

…

Charlotte poured another cup of tea as she and Steven sat across from each other at the little table in the study. Steven smiled shyly. “When I first arrived, I wondered if I’d upset you in some way.”

“No not at all.” She glanced at the window and stared outside for a moment. Steven noticed she once again was lost in her own thoughts.

“You have something on your mind?”

“I suppose I do. Do you not have trying times, Mr. Taylor?”

Steven wanted to blurt out everything he’d ever been through- from his captivity, to his rescue, to his adventures in time and space, but in reality he could barely confide in anyone even though Charlotte had the sort of face he felt he wanted to unburden himself upon. She wasn’t a stunning beauty, but she certainly wasn’t plain either and there was a subtle prettiness that he appreciated. 

“I have had trying times, yes. Charlotte, I know you may not want to talk about it but last night I heard noises again.”

Charlotte’s face remained taut. “Do you often go to the families you are guests of and ask them personal questions?”

Steven could see he’d upset her again. “I don’t mean to offend. I’m just worried about you that’s all.”

She looked curiously at him and stared deep into his eyes. “Why would you be worried about me?”

He wasn’t quite comfortable with the intensity of her stare. “Well all of you, your family. I just meant that you’ve been so kind to the Doctor.”

“Why do you call your grandfather ‘the Doctor’?”

Steven stuttered. “Oh…he’s rather proud of his credentials. A bit vain too, he likes it when we use his title.” He stopped talking when he noticed she was looking at him strangely again. “I keep saying the wrong things, don’t I?”

“I think you do, Mr. Taylor.”

…

The Doctor and Mr. Bronte sat in the living room by the fire. The Doctor rested his foot on a stool whilst Mr. Bronte reclined in his favourite high backed armchair.

“Your daughters do well to keep everything in order,” the Doctor said. 

“I am grateful for them of course. Emily was particularly wonderful when her sisters were away, always keeping the house running. I suppose Miss Vicki and young Steven are the same.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Yes, yes, quite so. They do keep things running smoothly and are a great help.”

Mr. Bronte fidgeted in his seat and rubbed his eyes. “And when you feel well to move on from us, will you continue to travel?”

“Oh yes we have much to explore, my dear man.”

“Where do you travel to, may I ask?”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Here and there my dear sir- here, there, and everywhere. Steven and Vicki are learning a great deal in my charge and I hope they shall use what they’ve learnt to aid our future adventures.”

“I’m sure their experiences have made them fine people, Doctor.”

“Quite so. Our experiences shape the way in which we view the world.”

There was a sudden tapping on the ceiling and the Doctor’s eyes glanced upwards. “Mice perhaps?” he chuckled but Mr. Bronte’s expression remained serious.

…

Vicki, Emily and Anne held hands and ran around in circles on the moors, circling and circling until they felt quite dizzy and the world blurred around them. Emily felt like a child again and wished she could stay in the fantasy forever. The young girl, Vicki, reminded her of the innocence and adventure of childhood and she wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

…

As the day grew to a close and the women had returned for supper, it didn’t take too long to clear away all the plates and cutlery and prepare to settle down for the evening. The Doctor and Mr. Bronte had retired to the living room to find their favourite seats by the fire in what had become somewhat a routine in the past day or two. And this time Steven had sat with them whilst he waited for the ladies to join them.

When the women appeared in the doorway, Steven looked fondly at how close the sisters were and he found he rather enjoyed working out their personalities. Of course Vicki had figured that out already, she was good at it, but he could only go on what he’d observed for the briefest of moments in their company. Anne appeared to be the quiet, gentle sister with a strong sense of moral justice, whereas Emily had a dangerous wild side in her that he likened to the spirit of Vicki, though she was unable to express it as outwardly as his friend. Charlotte was the motherly one, taking care of the other young women and being very assured in what she wanted, but with certain timidity.

“Come sit beside me, child,” the Doctor said to Vicki who obliged his request immediately and sat down beside his chair. She instantly felt her cold cheeks warming by the fire.

Steven got up and let Emily have his seat. She nodded thanks and he sat on an uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room whilst Anne and Charlotte took the sofa. 

“Vicki has agreed to sit for us to paint,” Emily told her father.

“Wonderful, Emily. Young Vicki shall make a fine subject.”

Vicki got onto her knees and wondered whether what she was about to say was appropriate but she felt she knew the family well enough and was going to ask it anyway. “Is there any chance of music?”

Anne laughed softly. “Do you like to play music, Vicki?”

“Not exactly, no, but I’d love to dance perhaps.”

Emily sprung to her feet. “We can all play piano to some extent. Charlotte would you like to play so Vicki can dance?”

Charlotte let out a laugh and it was the first laugh Steven had heard from her since they’d arrived. She ran happily to the piano and began to play the most melodious and up-tempo tune.

Emily took Vicki’s hands in her own and pulled her from the floor. “Do you know the dance to this song?”

“No, but I’d like to learn.”

Steven laughed silently as he watched Emily teaching Vicki a dance she was very unfamiliar with and had been created hundreds of years before she had been born. Vicki was grinning enthusiastically as she bobbed up and down in time to the music. Steven also noticed how graceful Charlotte looked as she played the piano. Finally, Vicki pointed at Steven.

“Come on Steven, you should learn this too.”

Steven was horrified at the mere idea and put his hands out in protest. “No, no, I’m not really a dancer.”

“Oh don’t be a spoil sport. If you don’t dance I’ll make you sing.” She looked at Emily. “Steven has the voice of an angel.”

Steven gritted his teeth and wanted to kill her at that moment. She’d never even heard him sing!

“Oh come on,” Anne said in agreement. “You’ll enjoy it. I’ll take over at the piano and Charlotte can join you.”

Charlotte allowed Anne to take her place and then held out her hand for Steven to take. “I will show you how it’s done, Mr. Taylor,” she said.

Steven tried to protest, after all he had no dancing skill at all and was more than likely to embarrass himself, but he found he couldn’t refuse the chanting of everyone in the room that he should join in. He allowed himself to be led by Charlotte to the centre of the room and followed her as she whispered the way he was to go and when to hop or skip or when to turn around. He scowled at Vicki as he made his way past her and then smiled awkwardly as he had to take Emily’s hand and walk around in a circle with her. He blushed furiously when he saw the Doctor was looking at him with interest and it was indeed one of those moments when he just wished something alien could happen just to stop him from having to dance any longer. 

Steven was therefore extremely thankful when the dancing ceased and he could safely sit on one of the chairs and not have to embarrass himself further.

Vicki sat on the floor near the fire, her hands resting on her knees and keeping a permanent pose as both Emily and Anne proceeded to sketch her. “You are now one of us,” Anne said as she presented Vicki with her final sketch. “You shall join our other paintings in our collection.”

Vicki gazed at the portrait and then showed Steven and the Doctor who both agreed it was a stunning work. 

“Isn’t it marvellous, Doctor, the way these women have so many talents? They can tell wonderful stories and create beautiful things.”

Charlotte put her arm around Vicki. “And what about you Vicki with your discussions of planets in the sky and bizarre creatures, you may have a gift yourself, to write such fiction?” 

“Fact, more like,” Steven said with a mutter to himself. 

…

As the family grew tired from the celebrations and evening turned to night, the Doctor, Steven and Vicki retired to the spare bedroom. 

As the Doctor drifted off into slumber and had started to snore loudly, Vicki and Steven sat on the window seat looking out of the window as a luminous full moon graced the night sky and hovered above the graveyard. There was a sudden movement from the bushes outside the house and they both seemed to notice it at the same time, sitting to attention at what they had seen.

“Did you see that?” Steven asked. “Someone moved out there.”

“Perhaps it was a ghost or werewolf- it is a full moon.”

“You’ve been listening too much to Emily’s stories. There was a person there I saw them.”

But as he was about to reply, they both saw the Bronte sisters emerge beside one of the gravestones and there was a light beside them, clearly from a gas lantern that Anne was holding. The sisters appeared to be dressed ready to go out onto the moors with long cloaks and bonnets on their heads to keep out the cold.

“What on earth are they doing?” Steven said.

“Perhaps they’re going on a ghost hunt.”

“Well it’s not very safe is it? One thing I know for sure though is that those ladies haven’t been telling us the truth. I think they know exactly what those strange noises are but they don’t want us to find out.”

Vicki headed towards the door and opened it. “Well, come on then, let’s follow them. Should we wake the Doctor?”

“No, let him sleep, he can’t walk well on that ankle anyway.”

…

By the time Steven and Vicki had caught up with the sisters, they had reached the moors and were striding in the direction of the waterfall that Vicki had visited with Emily and Anne. Realising they were being followed- Charlotte turned around and told them to stand still. 

“We know you’re there, Mr. Taylor and Miss Vicki.”

Steven and Vicki moved into the path of Anne’s lantern light so that their faces were now visible, though half covered in shadow.

“Well it’s a good job we are. It’s not safe for you out on the moors at night,” Steven said gruffly and didn’t care if it offended them this time. He’d had enough of all the secrets and of all the formalities of the past.

“We are quite alright,” Emily said as she looked back out across the moors as though searching for something or waiting for someone.

There was a sudden wailing sound coming from behind one of the rocks and it was similar to the noise they’d heard when they’d first arrived there. They all jumped back in surprise when the sound grew louder and closer. 

“What is that?” Vicki said, huddling against Steven. “Is that what you’re looking for, a demon of some kind?”

“He is no demon,” Charlotte said, finally sighing with the realisation that they’d been found out. “He is our brother.”

“Who is?” Steven said.

There was no need of a response as at that moment a man came into view, shouting from behind Anne, running at them, screaming, thrashing about like a wild animal and slurring as he called out the names of his sisters. As he came into the lamp-light, Steven and Vicki could see a face that might ordinarily be handsome but his expression was twisted and paranoid, lined and creased with fear. The man lunged for Steven with his arms outstretched and as he neared, Steven could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Defending himself, Steven grabbed the man’s arms and restrained him, holding his arms behind his back and lowering him to the floor easily. He’d learnt hand to hand combat and self defence a few years earlier and was ready for such an attack though he somehow never thought he’d be practicing it on one of the Bronte family.

“He’s not going to hurt you!” Emily shouted in his defence. “He’s not like that!”

“I’m not hurting him,” Steven said. “I’m just keeping him still.”

As he held Branwell down whilst the drunken man tried to free himself and lash out, Charlotte looked at Steven differently- where he had been polite and cautious before, now he was strong and dangerous with a certain heroic quality, like an ancient god with muscular arms and a strong jaw line. She supposed it were true that people held within them many sides and that night she had seen Steven Taylor’s other self.

As she walked over to assist her brother, he lashed out, and the force unintentionally knocked small Charlotte onto her knees. Her hands were cut from where she’d broken her fall and her dress was torn from when she’d made contact with the ground. As soon as she had fallen, Steven was by her side, leaving Branwell to be attended by the two other sisters and Vicki who managed to get him into a standing position where he was no longer lashing out.

Sensing Charlotte was hurt and unable to walk- Steven lifted her tiny body into his arms and began to carry her gently across the moors. “You help him,” he said to the others. There were no objections from Charlotte who just wanted to get her brother and sisters safely home.

On the way back to the house the women explained to their friends what had happened and all about Branwell and how he had locked himself in his room during the worst days and the sisters felt they could do little to help him at his time of need. They obliged his need for solitude and so had been unable to tell the travellers that the haunting sounds and creepy happenings had not been ghosts or anything unworldly but had simply been their poor brother, unable to cope with the world and taken over by the consumption of alcohol. He sometimes wandered onto the moors, lonely and afraid and they would follow him, just to be there for him, to make sure that as when they were children- that they all came home safely together.

When they arrived in the living room, Mr. Bronte and the Doctor had heard the commotion as Branwell had slipped and lay in the doorway wailing again, and shouting he was sorry as he tried to stand for himself. The look of shame on Mr. Bronte’s face was evident to the Doctor but he also noticed the look of deep sympathy and helplessness. 

“Fetch the boy some water,” the Doctor said. “We’ll have him rested in no time, friends, not to worry.”

Not much was spoken the rest of the night as Branwell was helped to bed by the Doctor and Mr. Bronte, and the others had tried to get at least some sleep. The Doctor suggested by morning it was time for them to leave to allow the family some alone time, and so this was their last night together as one big group.

…

Emily and Anne linked arms with Vicki as they walked with her across the moors on the spring morning that would be their last walk together. Charlotte and Steven walked on behind whilst the Doctor took time to fully appreciate the scenery and the view he’d missed the first time around as he was injured and unable to walk.

“We shall miss you terribly, Vicki,” Anne said. “You will think of us?”

“Of course I will. You’ve looked after me and been like real big sisters.”

“We have your picture to remember you by but what will you have to remember us by?” Emily said.

Vicki smiled. “Oh I think you’re both the sort of women who’ll be remembered for quite a long time yet, don’t you worry about that.”

Steven and Charlotte were more awkward with each other after the previous night’s events. Charlotte limped on her leg that she’d hurt in the fall and steadied herself every so often against Steven’s side.

“You won’t think badly of my brother, will you?” Charlotte asked him.

“No of course not, besides I’m familiar with his condition. I don’t judge any of you, if that’s what you mean.”

She smiled gratefully. “Sometimes the demons are not ones we create in stories- rather they are the problems we bury down deep inside of us.”

“That’s very profound.”

She smiled and took a careful glance at him. “Where will you go now, Mr. Taylor?”

“I have no idea, but that’s the best way I suppose. It’s no fun knowing the ending before its written is it?”

Charlotte laughed and watched as he joined Vicki and the Doctor at the foot of the strange blue box that stood out of place against the palette of greys, reds and greens of the moors. 

“What is that thing?” said Emily, a sparkle of wonder in her eyes as she stared hard at the TARDIS. 

“Wait and see,” Vicki said excitedly, squeezing her hands. “You’ll love this.”

The sisters stood back eagerly and watched as their new friends disappeared inside the doors of the box and then a few minutes later a new sound graced the backdrop of the moors. The noise was a screeching and a whirring and unlike any sound they had heard before. And with the new sound, the box was gone- vanishing within moments like it had never been there at all.

And with that, the Bronte sisters smiled, linked arms and headed back to their home to tell many more stories for as long as they could.


End file.
